Loving Him
by Crys Enchanted
Summary: I miss him, don't I? He's dead. I was in love with him. He loved me...as a friend. Then he died. The end. I never moved on. Written for a prompt, see inside! Oneshot! R&R!


Loving Him

By Crys

**Author's Note: This is written for my first prompt of HPFC. Hope you like it! **

Word Count Game Challenge- Week Eight

Words: 1150 words (Less or more)

Things used: Fred Weasley I

"I like it when you hold my hand."

"Shut up. I'm thinking."

Comfort

Black Lake

"I like it when you hold my hand."

That's what he had said when I had held his hand, shyly entwining his fingers within mine. I had blushed, my cheeks growing red, and had laughed uneasily, rubbing my palms to soothe myself. He only loved me as a friend, didn't he? I had glanced at him, and out of merriness, I had tilted my head gently to lay it on the side of his broad shoulders, and he had, as always, made a comment on it. I had glared at him, shaking my head, but I had managed to hide a small smile that had crept up on my face. He was amusing, yet ever sweet, and that was why I had fallen for him.

I had pulled his hand, and he had raised his left eyebrow, a thing that only he could perfect. I had rolled my eyes, pulling the hem of his shirt again, and he had scowled playfully, but stood up, brushing the snowflakes off his pants. It was such a beautiful evening of December, and with him by my side, I had felt safe, and happy. I had always loved winter, and he knew that too. He made it special for me every year. He was the one who had been there for me in the time of need. He had witnessed my breakdowns, my insecurities, and my struggles. He had never abandoned me. Until then.

Sixth Year. It brings fond memories, you know. The Yule Ball. I had attended it with his twin, wanting to make him feel jealous, and my full attention was on him. He had attended the Yule Ball with Angelina Johnson, that Gryffindor girl. I had been jealous, and lot of our fights had been caused just because of her. We had grown further apart, and his gifts that he gave to me had decreased. It was like that we never had been best friends. His moods changed day by day- sometimes angry, sometimes depressed, or sometimes grouchy. He had even snapped at me one time. I had been talking to him about quidditch, one of my favorite things to talk about, and he had not been responding. Angry with his behavior, I had yelled at him, and he had narrowed his eyes at me.

"Shut up. I'm thinking."

I had gasped, widened my eyes, and had slapped him in front of an audience, no less. It had been the month's gossip from then, and I had been depressed for a while, and even the professors could not manage to make me feel better. I had stopped talking to him afterwards, and he also had not approached me. It had felt terrible. Horrible. I had been bitter for the whole year, being quiet all the time, and when alone, I cried. What had he done? I had felt guilty the whole year. Hannah Abbott, my best friend, had known my secret, and had reasoned with him, but in no avail. She had not told him my secret. It was so sweet of her. She may seem like the typical blonde bimbo on the first sight, but she was different when you befriended her. Despite our age difference, we had been friends.

His girlfriend, Angelina, had sent me victorious looks over his back. She had insulted me in our classes, when he was not there. I had almost gotten into a catfight with her, but he had come to her rescue. He was her so called 'knight in shining armor.' Disgusting. He had sighed, sending me an indescribable look, he had walked away, holding his girlfriend, and his arms snaked around her waist. I had never felt so angry in my life.

Seventh year had been the worst ever. I, being a pureblood, was invited by Dolores Umbridge to join the Inquisitorial Squad. I had agreed, my mind in a whirl. She had invited _me _to join her Squad?! When he got to know, he had confronted me. He had said, "How could you, C? How could you betray me?" He had sounded disappointed, and had shaken his head at me. I had glared at him, and with a sneer, I had replied, "I betrayed you? I betrayed you! I'm not even your friend, for Merlin's sake!" He had gaped at me, and I had tried to choke back tears, frowning. He had glanced at me for one last time, and had walked away.

We graduated soon. I didn't know where he had gone, what he would do, or where he would live. I never fell out of love. I missed him deeply. The Second Wizarding War was a great loss for us. Lord Voldemort. He destroyed everyone. I didn't know what had happened to him, but I hoped he was alive and well. But I could only hope. I had stayed hidden, with my family, in fear of The Dark Lord, and it felt terrible. Knowing that many people were out there, fighting for themselves and their loved ones. Knowing that my love was one of them. I had been hoping that the Chosen One, Harry Potter himself, would take care of him.

Soon, I received an owl from Professor McGonagall, requesting me to join them for a funeral. To express our sorrow for the ones who died. I had gone there, clad in black robes, to mourn, and I had discovered his grave between others. He was dead. Three words that could change my life. I uttered a nervous laugh, glancing at the grave, my eyes shifting here and there. He was gone. He was not going to come back. Never. With one last "Oh", I dropped on my knees and broke down. I had looked quite the sight- tears streaming down my face, my robes torn from stepping in a plant's thorns, and my hair disheveled. Why did he have to die? I never wanted him to.

Many people came to comfort me that day, most of them knowing what position I held in my late best friend's life. His younger brother had come to me too, weeping. We mourned for him together, until his twin came staggering towards us, looking a mess. He was the one who was the most affected of us all. He had been the closest to him, closer than me, closer than everybody. I had wondered that if his girlfriend, Angelina, had known that he had died. Of course, she had to know. I wondered how she felt. He plopped down beside me, mumbling incoherent words under his breath. He had taken the shock quite heavily.

I had taken out my hand, and placed it in his stiff palm, not saying a thing. He had sensed my presence. He got up by himself, and I smiled sadly, and led him to the Black Lake. It had always been my best friend's and my favorite place. That was where I first got to know that I had fallen for him. They were fond memories, yes, they were. I had sat down, brushing leaves off my robes, and he had looked at me, his eyes empty and cold. He looked so much like his twin. I had smiled at him, and he had sighed, ruffling his hair. "You were in love with him all the time, weren't you, Cassie?"

"Yes, I was. Now he's gone. What's there to love?"

He had grinned, albeit a little sadly, and responded, "That you have to find, Cass. For now, forget the past. That's my advice. He was your first love, but don't let him be your last. Move on, Cassie. I know it'll be hard for you, but it'll hard for us also, wouldn't it?"

I had nodded, taking in his words, and I had sighed. He had stood up, and had waved at me, ready to go. I had smiled, crinkling my eyes, and signaled for him to go. I was Cassandra Steele, best friend of the late Fred Weasley, who was, accidentally, in love with him. And what had George said, Cass? Move on. That was what I had to do. But I would never stop loving him. Never.

**Author's Note: So... I guess this is the most angsty fic I've ever written. Gawd... Btw, I hope you liked it!**

**Don't forget to review, **

**Cheers, **

**Crys**

_Word Count: 1,362. I guess I overflowed it... (Excluding _other_ information)_


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